I had played the first four holes of my round yesterday as a single, with another single a hole ahead of me, but a slow group bunched the two of us together on the fifth, a par four that loops sharply around a retention pond. The single ahead waves me from the fairway to join him, which is exactly what I hoped wouldn't happen; being beckoned to join or pass another group always results in a complete breakdown of my golf swing as I try to rush through. On this day. I respond to the invitation by smothering a fairway wood off the tee into the earthen dam of the pond. I have no choice to hack the ball 50 yards into the fairway, setting up a 130-yard approach to the green.
The single ahead is now on the green, waiting for me to join him before he walks to his ball. I set up to hit an easy 8-iron away from the hazard...and shank the ball straight into the pond. I pull another ball out of my pocket, drop it on the same spot, and disgustedly whack a shot without much thought that still ends 15 yards short of the green. By this time, the single ahead has given up on me reaching him on the green, and holes out. As he walks off the green, I chip in for double-bogey.